


Hurting Hearts

by aQuaFinaHoarder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cancer, Gen, Homestuck AU, Hospital, Hospitalstuck, Humanstuck, Leukemia, M/M, More characters to be added as I write more, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aQuaFinaHoarder/pseuds/aQuaFinaHoarder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat, a long time sufferer of various aliments, lives with Kankri (in college) and the Signless (Pastor father). Shortly before graduation, he became diagnosed with a form Leukemia. In dire need for a transplant, the hospital finds a near perfect match in Sollux Captor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There is a deep, dark feeling festering in the pit of your stomach as you feel them inject you with more medicine. The Chemo is like nothing you ever imagined. Your body ached, as if it was anchoring your soul to the floor. Your name is KARKAT VANTAS and your almost one hundred percent sure that you will die in this hospital bed.  
It all started when you were attending your senior year of high school, strongly leading your class as the president. You were sure they hated you and gave the position to shut you up. Needless to say, you think you were one hell of a president, planning many beautifully romantic dances. Most were fairly successful and it was a great distraction from your aliments. 

As weeks turned to months during your senior year, you begin to feel faint and you look paler than usual, your red eyes looking like they were sinking into your skull. You were always sickly with one infection or another and felt nothing of it. Your father, CARMINE VANTAS, grew worried as he always did, “praying” even longer and giving you enough medicine to subdue it. 

One morning in the spring semester, you were to give a speech to the school after an “inspiring” assembly about drunk driving or something like that. You stood above them at the podium on stage, the bright lights shining in your eyes and making your head spin. You gripped the edges of the podium as you started your speech, your words falling off and hitting the floor like lead. You coughed to the side to focus yourself, but found your hand covered in a few drops of blood. You only remember hitting the floor and the sounds of gasps from your peers. 

You woke up in a stiff bed with an iv stabbed in your arm. You felt groggy as you find your dad beside you holding your hand. Your throat was too dry at the time, but you wished you could at least ask him what really happened. You give his larger hand a weak squeeze, as the doctor entered the room.

“Mr. Vantas,” He addressed your father casually, his eyes fixated on his clipboard.

“Do you have a diagnosis?” The older Vantas spoke, his voice making his anxiety transparent. 

“Well, we are waiting for blood test results to confirm our observations,” The doctor sighed, looking up at you and your father, “We- we have reason to believe that Karkat has a form of Leukemia…”

You force yourself to sit up. Your Father gives your hand another squeeze, his eyes watering with tears. 

“Wait, “ You speak hoarsely, “I have cancer?” 

The word lingers in the room, pictures of tumors from your biology class flashing in your head. Your body was fighting itself, the mutated cells slowly outnumbering the normal cells, and slowly decaying you inside and out. It would explain the symptoms you had and the blood you coughed up. But the news was still difficult to comprehend.   
Your Father holds his eyes shut, tears running down his face. The poor man, as annoying as he could be, never deserved a sickly son with an anger problem. He already lost your Mother, he certainly didn't need to lose you too. He would have to call your college bound brother and give him the news. Kankri wouldn't take it well, he’d get the first bus home and never want to return. 

And you,

School would be over, your title gone and all the hard work you put into the next dance for nothing. The loose cannon gossip will flood the halls, making them pity you somehow. The thought of them _pitying_ was too much to bear. You hated it to no end.

“As far as we know…yes. You will most likely be able to handle the rest of the school year. We’ll start chemo when we get the blood test results. While you still have your strength, you will stay home and continue going to school. Your Father and I will schedule regular chemotherapy appointments,” The doctor looked at your Father and whispered, “I’ll give you some time with your son…”

As the door closed, your father sat on the side of your bed, hugging you tightly. You felt like a child again, small and weak in his large arms. You hide your face in the crook in his neck, hugging him back with your free arm. 

“Kar…” He wept softly, petting your head. 

You sniffle, his sadness was infectious. You didn't even realize you were crying when he kissed your forehead.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ll-we’ll get through this. We’ll pull through.”

We’ll pull through. 

~~~

You managed to finish the three months of school you had left, but it was the most painful months of your life. Getting out of bed and taking your plethora of pills was getting harder day by day. Your closest friend, GAMZEE MAKARA, was too fucking high to give a shit when you told him. He figured you were always going to be there, stomping on his joints and cursing him off. You guess it’s for the best that he would be blissfully ignorant…  
And now you sit by idly, watching soap operas and eating globs of what the hospital calls “food.” They say you might be put on a waiting list for a bone marrow transplant, but you know it could be months till you actually get one. You didn't care anymore, you felt like you were just sort of… existing. You were only living for your dad and brother’s sake, but what few friends you had won’t miss you. No one will miss you when you’re gone, and frankly if death means you get to sleep painlessly, you were more than welcomed it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright, brother, I recently took a much needed sojourn to the library and took out the novels you requested. However, though this may trigger you, I could not get the one piece of literature called ‘Surrender to the Earl’… “ 

“For Christ sake’s Kankri, shut up. Thanks for the other books,” You mutter to your brother, glancing at the pile of books in your lap. The bright colors and loving couples were just what you needed to ignore the fact you feel horribly ugly with a shining bald head. You shaved it two weeks ago and haven’t felt comfortable since.

“Karkat, please do not use the ‘C-word,’ it is very triggering to Father…” Kankri sighed, leaning back in his chair, “I hope that in reading this selected literature that you will feel at least a little bit better.”

“Well unless it has some fucking _magical_ properties,” You spoke before a coughing fit, “It’ll just make me think I’m not sitting here wasting away.”   
Kankri scowled, pulling out a textbook and doing reading of his own, and by the looks of it, it was some book on human rights. Like father, like son.

The Doctor came in shortly afterward, seeming brighter than usual. His cheeriness annoyed you, sickly or not. Since your permanent stay in the hospital, the doctor seemed to go out of his way to try to make you happy. A pathetic attempt at a joke or some sneaking in chocolate (which you always appreciated the doctor feeding into your horrible addiction to the stuff). He has prepared you to attend counseling sessions, but you managed to talk your Father into letting you skip them. He instead gives you various books of the Bible and insists that it’ll give you and hope and the ability to persevere. It just does the opposite.

For most of your life, you have fought with your Father over religion, at first out of spite, but eventually you were finding yourself questioning every event and person in that leather bound book. As the Pastor’s son, you forced yourself into Sunday School, but you eventually got dismissed for throwing a Bible across the room. You hated the force beliefs; it made you feel weighed down. So when you turned 15, you left your Father’s church and decided to not touch any other religion with a three foot pole. 

“I have some good news for you, Karkat,” The Doctor flashed a smile. Your brother dug his nose out of his book, his interest sparked.

You roll your eyes. What possible good news _could_ there be? More Chemo? You get released from the hospital? You’re going to die ahead of schedule? You really didn’t care much for whatever it was.

“We have gotten you on the bone marrow transplant list. Hopefully in the next few months or so, we will find a proper candidate.” 

“And once that happens doctor,” Kankri spoke up, “Will the transplant help bring the cancer into recession?”

“We believe so yes,” The doctor pushed up his glasses, “We also provide a program in which the patient and donor get a chance to keep in touch before and after the procedure to see how both are doing.”

“Karkat, that sounds intriguing,” You brother turned to you, his voice nagging in your ears, “Would be willing to try that?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, no,” You flip through the pages of one of your books, trying to ignore your brother’s stare. Sure, having someone else to talk to sounded nice, but this “donor” was going to be some dirty creep with the luck streak you been having. 

“We’ll keep it in mind, Doctor. Thank you,” Kankri nodded, speaking in that same tone to the doctor. You were just hoping one of these days he would knock it off or get punched for it.

The Doctor nodded with a thin grin on his face and left the room. Kankri followed him, much to your surprise, but you did not have the energy or interest to follow him. You sat up a bit more and pulled your black haired wig off. You expected no other guests today beside your family and doctors. Plus it felt strange and itchy after a while. After taking the head piece off, you forbid yourself to look in a mirror; seeing your bald was a friendly reminder of how horrible you looked. 

You turn to your side to sleep, feeling empty and purposeless.

You are now KANKRI VANTAS and you have a plan. The plan was quite simple in your mind and it was simply too perfect to pass up. It’s purpose: to try to bring a smile to your brother’s face. You couldn’t stand his depressive state, as though he was just going to give up fighting and just roll over and croak. Nope. That was not happening on your watch. You stop the doctor.

“Doctor, would you please sign my brother up for this program? I personally think he would really benefit for having some social interaction beside both me and my Father.”

“I, certainly! Not a problem,” The Doctor made a small note on his clip board, “Are you sure he won’t mind though? He seemed adamant about not doing the program.”

You sigh, “I’m so tired of seeing him so sad, so empty. He needs more hobbies than just reading, and perhaps a potential friendship would fill that void.”

“Hmmm, I’ve observed his behavior as well. We’ll see what kind of donor comes and give it a good shot.”

“That sounds good, thank you Doctor.”

“No problem,” The Doctor shook your hand and wandered further down the sterile hallway. 

Your plan has been initiated, and it is absoluty flawless. No one will tell you otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a bit slow and took so very long to get here. College happened everyone.
> 
> I surprisingly enough still have great interest in the story (I haven't written this much in nearly 3 years O_o)
> 
> (whoops short again... they'll get longer I swear!)

**Author's Note:**

> (holy shit this looks so short -_-')
> 
> I'm pretty sure this idea has been done before, but I've been wanting to write this for a while. I had a really good rp as a sickly Karkat so it's been a bad craving :P
> 
> I wrote this exactly one year after the death of my one Grandmother, who passed away from Pancreatic Cancer. Then my other Grandma passed from a relapse of Breast Cancer two months later...
> 
> So... The topic of cancer is well read. And my guilty pleasure of biology helps too. (Looking up MCL probably shouldn't have been as fun as I made it to be ^^' )


End file.
